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advising you.’

      ‘I was mistaken, then, Your Grace. For your advice sounded distinctly like an insult to me!’ Jane breathed indignantly.

      Hawk’s nostrils flared angrily. ‘You—’

      ‘Sorry to interrupt your little tête-à-tête with your ward, Stourbridge, but perhaps I might have your permission to invite Miss Smith to dance?’ the Earl of Whitney interrupted smoothly.

      Hawk turned a quelling glance on the older man, having every intention of telling Whitney that he most certainly did not have his permission to dance with Jane. Or indeed to do anything else with her!

      ‘I do not need the Duke’s permission to dance, My Lord.’

      Jane was the one to answer before Hawk had a chance to do so, not sparing Hawk so much as a second glance as she took the other man’s arm and allowed herself to be taken onto the dance floor.

      Leaving Hawk no choice but to stand impotently by and watch as the rakish Earl of Whitney took a hold of Jane’s hand and led her confidently into the dance.

      An unpleasant image that was reflected back at Hawk many times over from the mirrors that adorned the walls of the small ballroom at Mulberry Mall.

      ‘I am so pleased to see that Jane is enjoying herself.’ Arabella spoke softly beside Hawk.

      Hawk turned to scowl at his young sister—who, as hostess, should have been on the dance floor herself. ‘Whitney is hardly a suitable companion for her to be enjoying herself with!’

      Arabella looked up at him steadily for several seconds, before allowing a knowing smile to curve her lips. ‘So, Lady Pamela was right in her assertion that you are far too interested in your young ward,’ she murmured with satisfaction.

      ‘I—’

      ‘I must admit I was a little taken aback when Lady Pamela described Jane as such,’ Arabella continued lightly. ‘I had not realised. Exactly when did Jane become your ward, Hawk?’ She arched blonde brows.

      ‘You are being deliberately obtuse, Arabella,’ he snapped dismissively.

      ‘I do not think so.’ Arabella shook her head.

      Hawk gave an impatiently snort. ‘Obviously I made that distinction for Jane’s sake. It simply would not do for our friends and neighbours—for the ton—to realise that an unmarried young lady with no family connection to us is staying here at Mulberry Mall under the protection of the Duke of Stourbridge.’

      ‘Perhaps you should have given some thought to that possibility before bringing Jane here…?’

      ‘Given a choice, I would not have brought Jane here—’ Hawk broke off as he realised he had been provoked into being indiscreet for the second time this evening. Something that, as the haughty Duke of Stourbridge, he never was. Or at least he never had been before Jane came crashing into his life.

      ‘If you had been “given a choice”, Hawk?’ Arabella echoed curiously. ‘You never have fully explained to me how you came to be acquainted with Jane, or your reasons for bringing her here. Perhaps—’

      ‘I do not think now is the right time for us to discuss this, Arabella.’

      ‘Will there ever be a right time?’

      Hawk’s mouth thinned. ‘No.’

      ‘I did not think so.’Arabella shrugged. ‘But you must admit that captivating the Earl of Whitney would be a marvellous feather in Jane’s social cap…’

      ‘I admit nothing of the sort!’

      Arabella turned towards the dancing couples. ‘They do look very well together, do they not…?’

      Hawk turned to follow the direction of his sister’s gaze, his own eyes narrowing ominously as once again he found himself looking at Jane as she danced assuredly with the Earl of Whitney.

      Arabella was quite right in her assertion: Jane and Whitney did look well together. The two were of a similar height, one so blond while the other a fiery redhead, and their movements were both light and graceful. And when the dance allowed, their conversation was softly exclusive.

      Hawk frowned darkly as he wondered what subject two such mismatched people could possibly have found to talk about so earnestly…

       Chapter Ten

      ‘Have you been Stourbridge’s…ward for very long, Miss Smith?’

      Jane had been lost in the enchantment of the ‘small’ ballroom, as Arabella called it. Dozens of candles illuminated the room, and the dancing couples were reflected in the ornate mirrors that covered the walls. A warm breeze came in through the open doors that led out into the garden beyond.

      Now she looked up frowningly at the Earl. ‘Why do you ask, My Lord?’

      He raised mocking blond brows. ‘Possibly because Lady Arabella describes you as her companion, and the Duke as his ward. I wondered which of them spoke in error…?’

      Jane stumbled slightly in the dance—a slip the Earl deftly masked as he matched his steps to her own. ‘Perhaps neither of them, My Lord,’she finally dismissed smoothly. ‘There is surely no reason why I cannot be both ward to the Duke and companion to Arabella?’

      ‘None at all,’ the Earl conceded. ‘But neither description tells me who you really are.’ All humour had now left that handsome face, and he stared down at her with that same intentness of purpose that Jane had found so disconcerting during dinner.

      Jane withstood the intensity of that gaze as she gave a rueful smile. ‘I am nobody, My Lord.Absolutely nobody.’

      ‘One thing Lady Arabella and the Duke do seem in agreement on is your name…Jane Smith…?’

      For all that the Duke had warned her the Earl was reputed to be a charmer and a seducer, Jane was finding his persistence in asking her personal questions irritating in the extreme.

      The Earl shook his head. ‘I am sorry to disagree, Jane, but I really cannot accept any loving mother with the surname of Smith baptising her child Jane.’

      ‘Then perhaps she did not love me!’ Jane snapped, still trying to come to terms with her emotions towards her mother after discovering that Janette had married a man who was not the father of her baby. ‘She died on the day I was born,’ Jane explained flatly, as the Earl continued to look down at her speculatively.

      His expression instantly changed to one of frowning regret. ‘Please forgive me if I have caused offence, Jane.’ He sighed. ‘My own wife and child died many years ago, too,’ he added, with a grimace.

      It was an explanation that at once touched Jane’s tender heart, and perhaps explained many things about this man’s rakish reputation…‘You did not cause any offence, My Lord,’ she assured him huskily.

      ‘You may call me Justin, Jane,’ he drawled.

      ‘I would rather not, My Lord,’ she came back firmly.

      The Earl gave a rueful shake of his head. ‘You do not seem to be part of the artifice that makes up the world of the ton, Jane…?’

      Perhaps that was because Jane did not belong to this world. She was merely an intruder, there on sufferance only because the Duke of Stourbridge had decided it should be so!

      She gave him a sharp look. ‘That is the second time this evening that you have spoken so disparagingly of your peers, My Lord.’

      He gave a humourless smile. ‘Perhaps because for the main part that is how I choose to think of them…’

      ‘Why?’

      The Earl shrugged his broad shoulders. ‘I doubt you would understand the reason for my cynicism, Jane.’

      ‘Perhaps if you were to

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